B n' H
by Theraxs
Summary: What would you do for the ones you loved? Well, Dr. Quinnzel? Do you even know who those are anymore? Let us start at the beginning: you were looking for Batman.
1. Chapter 1

_AN;__ This story excites me because I can make just about anything happen if I chose. Infinite possibilities and likewise infinite repercussions are the butter for which my bread be covered. For instance, and this is important if you want to read this story, 'B+H' does not follow any one continuity within the DC universe. It takes elements from the classics, New 52, Earth One and the Arkhamverse to name just a few. So some events may have occurred, some not, or they may have occurred but with totally different details and effects. For now, just picture that both Batman and Harley are from the 'Batman Animated Series', though that will change over the course of the story._

_Also, the rating and the genres may also change as we progress, so be warned._

**Nature vs. Nurture Arc**

Batman, secretly the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, had devoted decades of his life in attaining the peak capacity for physical, mental and spiritual performance. He had fought crime in Gotham, staved off threats to the entire world and had even prevented galactic destruction by traveling through time as a living bomb. His rouges gallery could literally fill a book and his friends and allies were the closest to gods that any mortal could dream to achieve. He was the spirit of the night, unflappable in even the direst of circumstance, unwavering in his quest for justice and his fight against crime.

"Huh?" was all he could manage.

The reason for his confusion was that one of his above-mentioned villains, Harlene Frances Quinzel, a.k.a. Harley Quinn, had just asked for his help. Begged more like it. She had set an elaborate trap involving an endangered 'citizen', really just one of her henchmen, and had immediately accosted him as he arrived in usual fashion of fluttering material and a shadow that seemed to just drop in from the sky.

Expecting a fight, he had been forgivably taken aback by a teary-eyed Quinn as she blubbered like a child that had skinned her knee. The plea for help was obvious, but Batman was nothing if not suspicious. He and Harley had been on opposite sides of the law for near enough ten years for him to no longer count. Chances of rehabilitation for the former psychiatrist were barely even feasible after half a lifetime of crime and killings.

And yet here she was, crying to her worst enemy in hopes of assistance. Bruce's first thought was to twist her arms around and cuff her and drop her on the GCPD's front step. But, on retrospect, every one of the scant few times she or other such villain had sought his help, it had usually been genuine, at least until his help was no longer needed at which they betrayed him readily. But he had always harbored a spot of pity for the tragic ones, like Harley, of Fries.

"Harley. Harley!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her until the tears had stopped and she was looking at him mutely, inky tracks of runny make up leaving her chalky face a mess. "Tell me, in a concise and calm manner, exactly why you need help, why you sought me, and why I should care." She swallowed that hard lump that always appeared after crying, mentally readying herself for a conversation with the Batman.

"Mistah' J has been missin' fer weeks, longer than he's ever been away. At first I thought it was just him cookin' up anotha' plan ta kill you or Commissioner Gordon, or release his gas in tha' city. But I haven't heard anything about him through any of our contacts, or even the others like Cobblepot of Pammy. He's just gone!" She exclaimed growing hysterical again. Bruce quickly subverted this with a slap. "I needed that," she admitted.

"I haven't heard anything on the Joker in two months," Batman agreed, beginning to wonder exactly what the Clown Prince of Crime was up to now. He had done this before, usually before orchestrating and performing an atrocious act that nearly pushed the Batman into snapping the smiling criminal's spine like so much kindling. The most vivid in his memory was when Jason Todd had been beaten near death before he and his mother had perished in an explosion. He couldn't let that happen again.

"Have you learned anything else? Anything that might pertain to his disappearance?" He probed. Quinn thought for a minute, no doubt have only focused on Joker the whole time.

"A few of tha' others have up and vanished as well; Scarecrow, Croc, and Zsasz over the past couple a' months. Didn't think nothin' of it then, but now I think that there's a connection now that you mention it."

Again, Batman confessed that he hadn't heard anything of the other villains either. It seemed that they had just fell of the face of the Earth, somewhere where even his vast resources couldn't follow. Usually.

Releasing his hold on the blonde, he began to ponder the situation thoroughly. Whenever any of his nemeses pooled resources against him it usually spelt trouble. But five of his worst were unaccounted for and that was a possible catastrophe for Gotham. This was something he couldn't dare to neglect, for fear of the casualty rate of civilians caught in the cross fire. So far, his only lead was Quinn, having done her own investigation into the matter, if only to find the Joker.

"Red Robin," Batman spoke through his com-link. It took a few seconds for the voice recognition system to patch him through to the right receiver, but soon enough he could hear the very familiar sounds of a brawl.

"What's up boss?" Tim Drake cheerfully quipped, obviously untroubled by his current predicament.

"What's your current status?" Bruce asked back, getting a queer look from Harley, who could only see the Dark Knight talking to himself.

"Riddler thought it would be funny if he stole the Gotham Reserve. Unfortunately for his question marked butt, "asparagus" wasn't a very difficult answer." There was another cry of pain from one of the thugs the teenager was facing, probably a dislocated wrist by the sound of it.

"I've found something that might take me into a long-term investigation. Could you cover for me for a little while?"

"Sure thing. I might need to contact another previous boy wonder but I can handle it. What's the case?"

"Joker, Killer Croc, Victor Zsasz, Scarecrow and Scarface gave all gone missing over the past few months. I thought it was probably nothing but another of their poorly conceived team-ups, but Harley Quinn just contacted me asking for help in finding the Joker."

"And she is not likin' this conversation that she can't even hear!" Harley shouted to be heard on the comm. Batman gave her a withering look, but she only seemed to get more annoyed by this, having learned long ago that his punches were far more painful than his looks.

"She actually asked for your help?" Tim guffawed, followed by the distinct 'thwack' of a metal rod connecting with an unprotected shin.

"Yes, even making up a false hostage situation in public to get my attention. I think I hear sirens now." At his words, Harley began to look nervously around for the source of the sounds, but remarkably enough, didn't flee.

"Can you get your little chat done with so we can get outta here?" She pleaded, shifting from foot to foot.

"I'll let you know when I have more," Bruce signed off from the link and again turned to look fully at the Joker's girlfriend/punching bag. "'We'?" He inquired flatly. She glared at him before poking him in the chest.

"Lookee her Bats; if they's really missing and not for a slumbah party, than I need to find Mistah J and fast. You need all the help you can get and I have the connections with the underground that you can't even touch without the rest of us knowing so don't even try!"

Bruce felt his patience waning the more she spoke. It was true that all of the major villains had some kind of system to alert each other of his appearances when stopping some big heist or kidnapping, preventing him from tracking the others down for days. It was infuriating at best and an absolute nightmare at worst. If Harley could indeed contact this network for news, than she was still valuable to this investigation and not yet a liability.

Making his decision just as the first squad car rounded the corner towards the now cleared out carnival, Batman grabbed Harley around the waist and fired his grappling hook upwards towards the gargoyles of a nearby building, the two of them zipping into the air in a flash, leaving a very annoyed thug dangling over a pit of water which had supposedly been filled with piranhas, but they hadn't had the money for them and Harley wasn't trying to kill him in any case. Just leave him for the pigs.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"It's been awhile since I've been in this wagon," Harley murmured, eyeing the inside of the Batmobile eagerly, red light making her usual make up appear more gaunt than usual. Behind the steering wheel, Batman tried to forget that experience as best he could, though to little success as the harlequin kept blabbering on about "good times". Not the choice of words he would have used, but hey.

"Tell me where this network is; we can get that over with now and you can enjoy your padded cell at Arkham again until you somehow bust out, **again**." Harley shook her head at him, pigtails waving obnoxiously in the cramped space.

"Doesn't work that way at night. If one of us or the boys comes a' callin at night, askin' questions about each other, they's supposed to assume that you made us come or are otherwise involved. See, we only get the warnings at night 'cause that's usually all we need. We can go there in the morning."

Batman nearly jammed the brakes in right there, but years of experience allowed him to keep most of his composure as he rounded on the blonde, auto-pilot taking over for a bit.

"In the morning?! Do you expect me to tolerate you until sun up?" Now she was shrinking away from him, having nowhere to escape from his wrath to. But, admirably, she didn't start crying again.

"It's the system. We know you don't operate in the day as much so we made it that way. Well, truth be told it was mostly Hatter, Eddie n' Clayface dun thought it up," she admitted quietly, apparently forgetting that she was revealing one of their greatest assets against him and his crime fighting family. "We named it 'The Bird Watch'. Sneaky right?" She elbowed him, attempting to extract a compliment. Another glare was sent her way.

"Bats are not birds," he stated simply.

"Y' see, that's the beauty of it; we're all talkin of birds when really we mean bats, robins, all of 'em." She adopted a deeper voice, apparently trying to mimic Clayface. "Oh are you coming to the bird watch later? I heard they discovered a new breed of sparrow by the Felton Building on Wednesday."

Batman blinked in surprise. He occasionally added the Felton Plaza as part of his patrol route, and if what Harley said was true, then the criminals were watching him and learning his schedules. That was a disturbing fact, but one that clicked with other bits of information he had accumulated and theories he had crafted.

"And what if I make someone tell me the location of The Bird Watch?" He inquired. She seemed all too willing to spill the secrets of this dark network.

"Well, it changes locations every few days or so. And if we catch wind of Batman, you, snagging someone who knows the current location they immediately close up shop and go to mattresses for awhile. So even though Imma gonna take you's to The Watch tomorrow, the place'll be cleaned out come midnight and you won't have a lick of a clue to track 'em."

Well, that explained why she seemed so open right now. She hadn't been carelessly throwing away secrets that were invaluable, but rather ones that he would feasibly acquire on his own. Perhaps she was insane, but she wasn't nearly as stupid as she seemed.

"So where are we shacking up for the night?" Quinn quizzed, looking out the window as streetlights zoomed past like shooting stars. She had a point. He couldn't let her loose for fear of collateral damage she may cause, and he couldn't take her back to the Batcave for obvious reasons. That left him with very limited options.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Carlton Milton had lived in Gotham City for the past twenty-two years of his life, and he had been the owner/clerk of the "Nighty-Night" hotel for the past twelve. Very rarely had anything of import ever happened near his off the way street, even with the notorious villains and criminals running around the dark city. Perhaps the most noteworthy event was when they had seen Batman and Catwoman chasing each other high up on the parapets of the nearby skyscrapers.

Tonight, he was sitting behind his lonely desk, looking over last week's half-finished crossword puzzle. '19 Down, fast paced songs from the play depicting the comical pirates of this region.' He heard the door chime as someone entered his little abode, but he was too focused on the puzzle to look up, merely sliding an information card and pen across to where the newcomer could fill it out. 'Eight letters.'

"I believe the answer is Penzance," A deep voice supplied. Looking closely at the column of empty squares, Milton wrote down the name and was overjoyed to find that it fit perfectly.

"Hey, thanks mister-"he looked up and stopped in mid-sentence as he beheld the world's greatest detective finish filling out the card and held it for Carlton to take back, which the older man did, eventually, after simply gawking at the specter of the night. "Room 16," Milton weakly mumbled as he handed him the key to his room.

"Thank you. Good night," Batman responded, seeming to bleed out of the room like a shadow, heading towards the stairs with a red and black clad figure Carlton had previously overlooked . She gave him a jaunty wave before skipping up the stairwell under Batman's watchful eyes.

Carlton Milton leaned back in his office chair, exhaling slowly. One of his tenants was the one and only Batman. Looking down at the info card still in his hands, he vowed to have it framed the very next day and hung right above his desk for everyone to see it. But first, something of high importance called that he could not in good faith ignore.

'33 across, a self-contained country within a country, eleven letters.'


	2. Chapter 2

"Well this is cozy," Harley remarked wryly, scanning the moderate sized room. There was a large bed in front of the TV with a phone on the nightstand, a side door leading into the bathroom, a miniscule kitchenette with a list of phone numbers for local restaurants laminated onto counter. There was a distinct lack of closet, but there was a clothes rack visible from inside the bathroom door, so there was that.

Kicking off her jester shoes, Harley gleefully scooted across the carpet towards the bed, finding rapture in the material against her bare feet. Eventually having her fill in that, she lept onto the bed let loose a drawn out sigh of contentment. Ever since the Joker had gone missing she hadn't had a good night's rest in weeks, let alone on a cushy bed.

Looking back, she saw that her temporary roommate was scanning the walls and decorations with what was probably a bug-detector. He was all business, like usual and that was just boring. Snatching up one of the two beige pillows, Harley chucked it at the caped crusader with accuracy born from wielding an excessive hammer.

As she had suspected he might, he ducked under the projectile and came up with three batarangs in his free hand. She couldn't hold in the snort of laughter at the spectacle and rolled across the sheets until she fell off the opposite side, Batman glowering at her before returning to his sweep.

As Harley got back to her feet, or rather her knees as she had bound back onto the bed, she decided that first shower was hers. Nabbing her PJs from her ever present knap sack (under the exploding pie and right next to the hyena collar) she skipped happily into the bathroom, closing the door with a precise kick. Humming to herself, she pulled the middle towel from the neat stack above the toilet, effectively rumpling the others and destroying the any semblance of order.

The shower came alive with a hiss, steam already rising from the hot water. Quickly stripping out of her one piece suit and discarding it towards the door, she eased into the stream, basking in the warmth previously lacking in her form. Taking a few minutes to simply enjoy the water, she reflected on what had happened so far tonight.

She had actually resorted to contacting the Batman in order to find her lover, an act that the Joker was sure to find very un-humorous when they at last found him. But she was desperate, and she knew all too well that if anyone could find the mysteriously vanished Joker, it was Batman. Bunking up with the man was definitely unexpected, but nothing she couldn't handle.

Shaking those thoughts, Harley scrubbed her face with a washcloth, taking away the white and black make up she had applied that morning. Watching as the Rorschach of color slipped down the drain, she retrieved the generously supplied hotel shampoo bottle and squirted a good-sized dollop into her palm. With that palm full she thoroughly washed her bright blonde hair, singing out loud while she did so. _Spice Girls_ hadn't been her thing in a while, but the knowledge that Batman had to endure it was well worth the vocal work out.

Eventually the water stopped and she stepped out of the shower glistening, clean and mercifully warm. Draping the towel around herself, she got a smaller one from the already disheveled patch and dried her hair with it before discarding it behind the door. Next she took a brush to her hair, straightening out the shoulder length locks that she had had in twin ponytails for the last couple of days. A grimace played across her face at the pain it caused, but took solace in knowing that at least she was actually taking care of herself. Her personal image wasn't something she had been worrying about since she had decided that the Joker was well and truly missing even after one of the more sympathetic goons told her that she looked wrecked (god rest his soul).

Finally, her grooming was finished and she slipped into her waiting pajamas; a single piece zip-up with pink 'fur' and dozens of little hearts scattered across the body. Snug in her "lovey-dovey armor", she exited the bathroom to find Batman standing by the window, apparently engrossed in another comm-link chat. Ignoring him, Harley plopped down on the bed, snatching up the TV remote as she went.

"Western…infomercial…infomercial…commercial…Simpsons…infomercial…sure are a lot of infomercials tonight…Friends rerun…static…(I wonder if they blocked off the pervy stations?)…ah, here we go!"

Batman turned to see what she had shouted about, only to see her at the foot of the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest as a surrogate teddy bear and positively glued to the glowing screen. Looking there, he almost winced as he discovered that she had discovered a showing of "Some like It Hot", now only just a few minutes in. He had seen a bit of the movie a few years back when he had been invited to an informal party thrown by an extravagantly wealthy actor. He had gone to track down the whereabouts of Penguin and the night had soon offered him a chance to lip off.

But tonight he was trapped. He couldn't leave Quinn unattended for longer than a second for fear of what she might do. Allowing her to take that shower had bred many uncertainties, but his intuition had told him to allow her the shower, especially after witnessing the state she had been in during the ride over. He recalled that this was a common event whenever the Joker left her for any prolonged period of time.

"Hey Bats, c'mere an watch this part, I love it! Y'see, these two lounge players witnessed some gangster offin' another and now they need to hide, so they join an all girly band, dressed up as 'dames.'" Harley bounced in spot, giggling as the two men struggled in their heels. Batman turned away and spoke some more words in a low voice, though he needn't have bothered as Harley had eyes and ears only for the flick.

Signing off, or whatever, the caped crusader seemingly glided to the lone chair of the hotel room and repositioned it in the darkest corner between the bed and the window so as to watch both his roomie and both possible means of entrance or escape. Harley merely snickered at his paranoia. They watched the movie for several long minutes, one giddy and one reluctant, before the night was disturbed by a low growling sound. Harley, taken aback by the intrusion, looked around quickly for the source, only to realize with shock that it had been her stomach.

Grinning sheepishly at the bemused Batman (hey, there was another title for him) she admitted, "I guess I kinda forgot to get a lunch today…or breakfast…or yesterdays…heh?" It was an odd quirk, which only she had, to chuckle and make it sound like a question. Sighing grumpily, the masked avenger extracted a sheaf of small bills from one of the many compartments on his utility belt.

"Go order some take-out," he ordered handing her the money. Looking at it distrustfully, though unwilling to pass up on food that someone else was buying, Harley scampered into the kitchenette to peruse the provided list of numbers.

"D'ya like pizza?"…"I'll take that silence as a yes." Quickly memorizing one of the numbers she ran back over to the bed, reaching across it for the phone, inputting the number into the oldy spin-wheel. Laying on her stomach, she played with her hair while she waited out the ring tone, legs raised and crossed behind her like a little kid. "Heya," she eventually announced as a tired sounding employee answered, "y'a guys still open for a bit?" The employee gave her the hours, apparently pleasing her enough to give her order and the address for it to be delivered to.

Twenty minutes of cross dressing hijinks later, a knock came at the door. Harley answered it, and paid the acne-scarred teenager quickly before he either ogled her, recognized her, or spotted the notable pointy eared shadow lurking in the corner. The pizza box went onto the bed, never mind the stains it would cause, and the included 2-liter of soda was positioned close to hand by the bed. Reaching into her bag yet again, she rummaged for a second before pulling out two cups that looked like parts of a trench kit, and a stack of paper plates, the first several spoiled by what looked like stale acid.

"Here ya go B-Man," she declared jovially, brandishing a plate of crust, cheese, tomato sauce, pepperoni and mushrooms towards the superhero. Apparently failing to find reason to refuse the food, Batman took the plate, but noticeably waited for Harley to take a bite from her own piece before beginning to eat.

"Figured since ya bought it an all, that you should at least have a slice, even if you're a big ol' meanie." Batman remained quiet.

They watched the movie in what could never be referred to as amicable silence, but it was at least not hostile. The movie ended and Harley decided to call it quits for the night, knowing that the next day was sure to be long, arduous and more than likely filled with violence. Spreading out beneath the thin sheets, she tried to ignore the fact that her mortal enemy was watching her every move and would continue to do so well after she fell asleep.

It had been a tiring day.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Bruce wasn't even slightly tired when Quinn finally dropped off, snoring a painfully loud indication. He remained in the room for another hour to make sure that she wasn't just faking before exiting out through the window and effortlessly scaling the side of the building to alight atop the roof.

"Alfred?" the billionaire started up another communication over his earpiece. It was late, but he knew that his butler would always wait by the bat-computer until he received word on Bruce when he stayed out all night.

"Here for you, Master Bruce," the calm and even British voice came back to him immediately.

"Something's turned up; several of the big name criminals have vanished, including the Joker. Quinn contacted me and asked for my help." There was no immediate questioning, as Bruce had suspected. Alfred was great at holding his inquiries until all of the information had been laid down. "She claims that we'll be able to find information from an underground network that they use to keep track of me and each other. She calls it the Bird Watch."

"That seems like a very good place for her to lay a trap for you sir. Do you actually trust for her to uphold her end of whatever deal you have going?"

"So far I've been in eyesight of her all night. I rented her a hotel room and right now she's sleeping so I don't think there's any chance of her slipping of. Even so, I'm going to have to watch her closely; no telling when she thinks to betray me,"

"Very well sir," Alfred tried to stifle a yawn but it was hopeless. "Be sure to get some sleep tonight."

"You too old friend." He signed off, but didn't move from his perch for quite some time, pondering over this latest case. Who would have the motive, or even resources, to kidnap several of the biggest criminals in Gotham, if that was what really had happened. Ras al' Ghul for one, Joker himself, the Black Glove if they were still around. All three of the kidnapped were male, so Poison Ivy was definitely an suspect, though Croc had proven resistant to numerous chemical agents in the past and wouldn't be easily controlled by her pheromone powder. Only two of them were schemers, the other one being an up front brute. There were glaring inconsistencies leaving no one option apparent.

He heard her approach before she even spoke a word, and that was because she let him. If she wanted to, Catwoman could sneak right up to him without being detected until the last possible moment.

"Didn't expect to see you here so soon," her low, sultry voice drifted through the air like a tropical breeze.

"Selina, do I even need a schedule to come see you?" he teased, a rare event indeed while still in the suit. "Can't I drop by and comment on the weather or your hair?" he turned to address her, finding her lounging easily on the ledge to his right, one leg dangling over the edge like it was nothing but the side of her bed. A lazy, care free smile was clearly visible and her bull-whip was being coiled around her finger.

"Come now Bruce, we both know that you never visit on Mondays unless there's a crime going on. Otherwise you just let me have my neighborhood to myself."

Moving leisurely, he strode over to her and found a seat by her feet, looking out over the quiet but never asleep city. It was hard to say which one allured him the most.

"Actually, there is a crime, but I wasn't going to get you involved unless I needed to," he extrapolated, good mood dimming.

"You don't know how to ask for help," she scoffed, inspecting the claws on her suit's fingers.

"Perhaps, but you always seem to know when I need it without my asking."

"Alright, I concede you that point. So what was that crime you were talking about?" She hoisted herself and sat up straight, giving him her full attention. So, for the fourth time that night, Bruce explained the case so far and about his unorthodox traveling partner. She thought about it for several minutes, clicking her claws against the worn stone in a slow metronome.

"So Harley's that desperate? I've know her awhile and these moods don't usually end well for anyone, least of all her. I don't like to say it, but shouldn't she just be admitted into Arkham? That's the only place the Joker won't actually beat her bloody in; usually because of the restraints and all."

"She has information that I need pertaining to the investigation and won't give it up unless I oblige her requests. Having those three disappear is not something I can ignore for any period of time."

"This might not be related, though it probably is, but I've heard tell that both Flash and Superman having been missing a couple of their usual rouges. And I can't be too certain but I do recall J'onn stating that the JLA's activity has been decreasing as of late, allowing for more free time for the members." He gave her a sidelong look.

"When would you have the chance to talk to J'onn?"

"He does come down from the Watchtower occasionally," she quipped. "But if all of these are actually connected, then you could have a Justice League sized problem on your hands before you know it." He stood up and took a few steps back onto the roof, feeling stiff muscles stretching and joints popping.

"For now, it's something my family can handle." He looked back at her. "Though you should probably be ready all the same."

"You know me Bruce," she winked as she pulled the whip free from her belt. Sliding off of the ledge, she fell for a dozen feet before her whip came out with a crack and wrapped around a protruding flagpole, allowing for her to swing away lightly into the night. Bruce took a deep breath, savoring the chill of the nighttime air. He expected tomorrow to be filled with tedium, frustration and a good helping of broken bones.

It had been an interesting day.


	3. Discontinuation

So, yeah, This apparently isn't a very enjoyable story. Nobody's said anything and I have zero feedback on the whole thing.

I'm gonna take the hint and discontinue "B n' H" due to lack of interest (tomorrow's cancelled; let the clocks be reset and the pendulums held. Ha! Still working in song lyrics when you least expect it!).

Later, I suppose.


End file.
